Mrs. Stapleton was accustomed to deal with young men, and through long habit had learned how to flatter them without appearing to do so. Laurie's type, however, was less familiar to her. She preferred the kind that grow their hair rather long and wear turn-down collars, and have just found out the hopeless banality of all orthodoxy whatever. She even bore with them when they called themselves unmoral. But she remembered Laurie, the silent boy at lunch last week, she had even mentioned him to Lady Laura, and received information about the village girl, more or less correct. She was also aware that he was a Catholic.
She gave him her hand without rising.
"Lady Laura asked me to excuse her absence to you, Mr. Baxter. To be quite truthful, she is at home, but had just gone upstairs for her meditation."
"Indeed!"
"Yes, you know; we think that so important, just as you do. Do sit down, Mr. Baxter. You have had tea?"
"Yes, thanks."
"I hope she will be down before you go. I don't think she'll be very long this evening. Can I give her any message, Mr. Baxter, in case you don't see her?"
Laurie put his hat and stick down carefully, and crossed his legs.
"No; I don't think so, thanks," he said. "The fact is, I came partly to find out your address, if I might."
Mrs. Stapleton rustled and rearranged herself.